


clouds part

by justlikeswitchblades



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, KNBxNBA, M/M, No Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: Tatsuya wouldn’t call this settling back into a rhythm, not yet. This is more like a reintroduction, remembering what it’s like to be around Shuu.





	clouds part

**Author's Note:**

> (at least very little dialogue)
> 
> this touches on cancer/chemo, partial blindness, and also there's a bit of a sex scene, just fyi
> 
> a sequel to [the weight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605900)

If asked whether anything unexpected had occurred since Taiga got his start in the NBA, Tatsuya would label his becoming such a social media fiend lately as one such thing; tweeting his own thoughts and posting on his Instagram, as opposed to just retweeting some things here, and quietly liking some of Tatsuya’s replies to Bomani tweets there. But it’s not as unexpected as it could be, especially with word from the Bulls administration saying he’ll be spending less time in the development league this upcoming season, and more in the United Center. 

As a freshman, and maybe even this time last year, Tatsuya would have been jealous. But it’s hard to not be excited for Taiga, at the prospect of catching his games on TV on nights when they’re not playing, or on some digital radio app he’ll need to reinstall on his phone after deleting it during the offseason to make more room, to maybe even fly out and catch one of his games in person, if he can--that’s one thing he hasn’t done yet. To keep his own envy at bay, and to minimize Taiga’s D-League frustration; starting there isn’t the same thing as starting in the NBA. It’s a frustration they’ve been able to bond over, Taiga finally able to understand the pain that Tatsuya’s felt that comes with being second best--and sometimes, even less than that. Their demons from high school aren’t totally at bay, not always. But they’ve been able to apologize, to act and feel more like adults around each other. Taiga’s bright future is no longer casting a shadow on Tatsuya’s--in fact, it’s helped the clouds part, enough for the both of them to notice.

It’s the middle of August, the days encroaching upon the third week, and the start of Tatsuya’s junior year. Alex and Taiga both helped him move back into the Five Points apartment he shared with Shuu last year, and he took a selfie with the both of them on his own phone, promising he’d text it to them later--he’d be fighting off their demands for one over the past week. It was even harder to battle his own vanity when Shuu asked for selfies over text, refuting his frowning emoticons with dick pics; nice ones, with attention to the lighting, showing off his abs and thighs, fingers around a flaccid or half-hard cock--and mercifully, Shuu hadn’t commented on his swim trunk tanline in his response. 

Maybe it’s stupid to make himself wait on a small thing like this. Maybe it’s a manifestation of the inferiority he feels, in some way or another, to prolong receiving praise, a reflection of the ambiguity he feels about what he’s done. But he can say it’s worth it this time, with the way Shuu reacts, making an unintelligible noise when Tatsuya pulls his head out from hooking up the TV, gawking and grinning at the closely shaven hairs just above Tatsuya’s neck, his bangs trimmed short, barely covering his eye. He places the box he’s carrying on the floor, giving Tatsuya enough time to stand up, and rushes over to kiss him, combing his fingers through what’s left of Tatsuya hair, breaking away just enough to tell him how handsome he looks, and that he loves him, Tatsuya’s hands on his waist. They pull apart a little bit when Shuu’s brother enters the room, gagging, old enough to have been recruited into the move-in process. But Tatsuya keeps his hand on the small of Shuu’s back, kisses the blush that spreads over his cheeks when his parents walk up; it’s impossible to keep from smiling at the light and life in Nijimura-san’s face, and he parts from Shuu to help him into a chair, a man that’s chemo-balding and looking more weathered than any man ought to in his mid-forties, wearing a sweater despite the ninety-degree heat. But even with swollen hands, his grip is firm, the prognosis for the future much better as compared to a few months back. Shuu’s mother looks weary, too, but refreshed after a summer of having her eldest son at home. Tatsuya can’t refrain from stoking Shuu’s blush by calling her _oka-san_ ; she’s a woman worth respecting, but he’ll keep himself to that for now--he’s already planning on bowing to them at graduation.

It only takes two trips for the three of them to get all of Shuu’s belongings upstairs; Tatsuya coaxing Shuu into skipping the elevator line and taking the stairwell instead; it is faster, and the basketball season isn’t until November. He needs some way to compete with him _now_ , and by the way he races him up the steps, bumping his shoulder, he can tell that Shuu’s missed him, too.

They’re damp with sweat at the end of it--enough for Tatsuya to poke at Shuu for reaching the ripe age of twenty-one, and enough for Shuu to remind Tatsuya he’s still a teenager in return. The boxes sit unpacked, as are the majority of Tatsuya’s, but he can still lend Shuu one of his shirts, swiping his lips over the back of his neck, before pulling on a fresh tank top in the bedroom.

But it’s not time for them to be alone just yet; Tatsuya still gets to be the second son, piling into the aging Nijimura minivan with everyone else, and jostling for parking in Chinatown, close enough to absorb the runoff of Dodgers fans from an afternoon game. Nijimura-san orders a beer, then switches it with Tatsuya’s glass of water. Tatsuya grabs the check, insisting that he’s allowed to celebrate Shuu’s senior year. Shuu bumps his knee under the table, and Tatsuya stiffens just so, expecting a reprimand. But Shuu just smiles, his cheeks an alcohol-tinged pink, and mouths him a thank you.

Saying goodbye to Shuu’s family is a quieter affair; they’ll come to the majority of the Trojans’ home games when the season starts, barring the nights where Nijimura-san isn’t feeling well, and when any high school events take precedence. Until November, Shuu can always borrow Tatsuya’s car to visit them; a newer Honda Pilot, bought with the help of a loan from Taiga.

And then it’s the two of them, alone, quieter since they spent most of the afternoon catching up, Tatsuya sinking back into the comfort of his poker face, or at least some version of it--Shuu pulls at it by pushing the hair from Tatsuya’s eye, kissing his forehead, bumping their noses together, fingers and lips trailing over his cheekbone--and while Tatsuya’s eyelids flutter at his touches, he doesn’t wink it shut instinctively, letting Shuu see his clouded iris, if he chooses to look.

“Shuu,” Tatsuya sighs, letting both eyes fall closed for a moment, taking a step towards the bedroom. Shuu’s lips are on his neck, his hands sandwiched between their bodies, pushing the cottony fabric of Tatsuya’s tanktop up his chest. “I missed you.”

“Fuck,” Shuu rasps, lifting his head, face contorting in a way that looks as if he might cry--or at least Tatsuya might think that, if he’d never seen Shuu cry. This is different, but familiar, an expression Tatsuya can recognize because he’s made it himself before; a mixture of want and need and other emotions that aren’t as easily parsed, the flush of his skin not totally obscured by the oranges and the pinks of the setting sun.

It’s only been three months. But three months, after spending so much of the past nine together, has felt like infinity.

“Tatsuya. Me too.”

The feeling of Shuu’s body on top of his, when they’ve got the A/C going, is a welcome comfort, a solid but unoppressive weight. There’s the feeling of Shuu underneath him, too, the small, complaining stretch in Tatsuya’s thighs when he straddles him, Shuu palming his ass when he stretches, reaching for a condom and the half-empty bottle of lube in the otherwise unused desk drawer.

“Wait,” Shuu furrows his eyebrows. “Are those from last year?”

“Could be,” Tatsuya kisses at the corner of his mouth. “I just put them back in the usual spot. Figured we’d have the same priorities when you got back.”

“Considering the texts you’ve been sending me, I’m not sure if I’d be able to have any other priorities.”

Tatsuya wouldn’t call this settling back into a rhythm, not yet. This is more like a reintroduction, remembering what it’s like to be around Shuu, how his hands are just a touch softer than his from having honed his skills on indoor courts, as opposed to street ones, the noises he makes, and the volume, uninhibited by traveling through a phone, no longer having to worry about others that could hear. 

But he didn’t just miss the physical intimacy. He missed the way Shuu’s stomach grumbles when he’s got Tatsuya wrapped up in his arms after, how he rolls his eyes and sighs at himself for doing so, how he grins at Tatsuya for laughing at him. How Tatsuya can hand him his keys and they can go for a drive, the sky darker now, rolling through Taco Bell because they can wait till classes start to start worrying about nutrition again. They keep driving west, out to the pier, where they can park and sit on top of the hood. Tatsuya keeps the radio on, letting the music fill the silence between them when it needs to, and watches Shuu smile when he asks him about senior year, and graduation, and next year’s draft, only three hundred and some days away.


End file.
